


Mischief Managed, Indeed

by Werewolves_are_friends_not_fiends



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, One Shot, POA, Pining, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, The Marauder's Map, bad insults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werewolves_are_friends_not_fiends/pseuds/Werewolves_are_friends_not_fiends
Summary: When Remus confiscates the Marauder's Map from Harry, he wants to talk to his friends, maybe one of them a bit more than the others.





	Mischief Managed, Indeed

Remus stared down at the Marauders’ Map. After over a decade this piece of living history, his history, was back in his hands. He traced his index finger lightly over the words and markings, his mind flooding itself with images of late nights under the Invisibility Cloak, skulking around trying to memorize the castle whilst avoiding Filch and Mrs. Norris. He knew the code words like the back of his hand, no, as if they were etched onto the back of his hand permanently. _Mischief managed. I guess we didn’t quite manage it this time, did we lads?_

“Show me where Harry is,” Remus told the Map, purposefully uttering the wrong words; he wanted to see if his scheme would unfurl as planned. 

“Messer Moony, I am agog and aghast! Messr. Prongs offers his sincerest of condolences to the loss of the great mind that once belonged to you, sir.” The words blotted onto the parchment before him and Remus choked out a watery chuckle. Blinking away tears, Remus looked up at the ceiling. 

“People who live in glass houses, Jamie, should not throw stones,” he muttered, looking back down at the words as they began to fade away into nothingness once more. _Okay, let’s give this a shot._ As much as he tried to deny it, there was one person in particular with whom Remus wanted to speak. 

“Sirius Black’s hair is stringy as pulled pork and as oily as freshly fried chips,” Remus told the Map. _That should just about do it._

“Messr. Moony, how _dare_ you! Messr. Padfoot would like to inform you that your hair in the mornings looks like someone let an anteater pick through your scalp for breakfast and then put you in a room with ninety-nine percent humidity.” When the words appeared, Remus fell to his knees. He heard Sirius voice saying these insults as clear as day in his head. Could easily picture the way his beautiful lips curled around the words, could practically trace his furrowed brow with the tip of his index finger, and could see the teasing glint in his gray eyes, crackling with the sparks that wreaking havoc always brought him. Mischief managed, indeed. 

Remus continued to hurl half-hearted insults at the piece of paper before him, specifically aimed at Sirius. With the tears streaking down his face, Remus silently admitted something to himself, something he’d tried to bury for years on end: _I’m in love with him. After everything he’s done, I’m still in love with him. And I guess I always will be._ Remus threw down the parchment and curled into a ball on the cold stone floor and just cried. He cried and cried and cried until he woke up feeling empty, sore, and drained. But in true Remus Lupin fashion, he just stood up, brushed himself off, and carried the pain within him, no longer strong enough to pretend it wasn’t there. _Until the very end._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> I hope you've enjoyed this sad one shot inspired by @mania-junkie on Tumblr. You can follow my account @bethewolfstarblogyouwanttosee Let me know in the comments what all of you would like to read with regards to our fave canine boys.  
> -D


End file.
